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ALLIESPyralis stood very still. Not moving in the slightest. Apart from the flame sword and whip, and the blindfold she looked liked she was meditating. There was silence around the room.
Harry stayed still too, his nerves humming and muscles taunt. He was ready to leap out of the way when she swung those burning weapons at him. But the attack never came.
Harry made eye contact with his party. McGongall and Lupin both looked baffled and Ron shrugged. Hermione had a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
Harry took a tentative step forward. Barely a shuffle. Pyralis didn't move. He took another step. More confident now. Pyralis lashed out with the whip. He barely had time to fall to the ground before she followed with a swing of the sword, right where his head was. Harry felt the swooping heat and winced. Hermione let out a shriek and the heat mages cheered.
Harry took a moment to calm himself. This was no different to when he tried to fly past the dragon. The cheering was good, it would disguise his footsteps. He rolled out from under the fiery weapon and made a grab for Pyralis' shoulder. The whip swung up and caught him on the cheek.
It was shallow and stung but it was not too painful. Harry realised that the heat mage wasn't going to hurt him so that he couldn't operate. Just enough to prevent him from touching her. He was glad enough to let out a breath of relief. It was good to know the person you were fighting wasn't crazy.
"Ne retentissez pas ainsi soulagé, mwanga. Mon épée du fyetua veut toujours un gout," Pyralis spoke out.
"What did she say?" Harry demanded before realising his folly. The sword came rushing in his direction. He ducked quickly.
"I said: do not sound so relieved, wizard. My sword of fire still wants a taste," Pyralis translated. Her head was roving as if she wasn't quite sure where Harry was.
He looked at Agnimukha for help of some kind. The fire king just gave him a blank expression. Harry was truly on his own in this fight. With his attention turned to the heat king he missed the sword come crashing into his stomach. It sent him sprawling back. The sword felt solid but it didn't bite into his flesh, just seared it.
The crowd groaned with him as he hit the ground hard. Pyralis didn't advance but stood posed in a fighting stance, prepared for him to come closer. Lupin crouched over Harry.
"Are you alright?" He asked the teenager, concerned.
"I'm fine," Harry managed to splutter in reply. He looked down. There was a burnt hole in his shirt and the skin was raw and red.
"This needs to finish soon Harry. Do you want to keep trying or surrender?" Lupin laid the options out.
Harry thought about it. Dumbledore had wanted him to gain the Wild Mages' support and that meant earning the respect of the heat mages first. If he couldn't prove his bravery in this he wouldn't have them as his allies and after witnessing Pyralis swing her sword he realised how useful they would be. Besides if he couldn't face one girl then what chance did he have against Voldemort?
"I need to do this," Harry conceded, "But she's so fast. She hears me sneaking up."
Lupin shook his head with an ironic smile, "She's not hearing your footsteps but sensing your body heat."
Harry had an idea in that moment. He stood up shakily but waved Lupin's helping hand away.
"Do you yield?" Pyralis demanded.
"No," Harry replied and drew his wand.
The king stood immediately and the uproar of the crowd was deafening.
"You have only to lay a hand on her, not incapacitate her with magic," Agnimukha cried.
Pyralis stiffened. She had not known that Harry had pulled a wand on her. Her mouth was set in a grim line that reminded Harry of McGongall.
"You never said I could not use my wand to help me lay a hand on her," Harry replied with a small grin. The king opened his mouth to protest more but Harry sent sparks into the room. They danced around Pyralis and Harry could see her eyebrows over the blindfold furrow with confusion.
"Good idea, Harry!" Hermione cried. Ron looked as confused as Pyralis. When Lupin said that she had detected his body heat approaching Harry decided to provide her with a distraction. He charged at her. Pyralis had her attention turned to one of the burning flames to the left and didn't sense Harry till it was too late. There was a collective gasp as he slammed into her.
The sword and whip disappeared as she went down. Harry landed on top of her and being almost a foot taller she couldn't move. The crowd clapper and hollered, despite the fact he had won. Harry suspected that if he succeeded that they would grudgingly give support but he realised they honestly did value bravery.
Pyralis brought a free hand up and groped for the blindfold. As she yanked it off he met those black eyes. She was smiling.
"Two things," She said softly, "Une: Don't make your diversion flames hotter than your own body temperature and deux: a talented heat mage will detect that only one of the sources of heat was not made by blood."
"You knew," Harry guessed, eyes wide. Pyralis shrugged, which was difficult as she was lying on her back. This close Harry realised that Pyralis had a scent. Not an overwhelming pungent stench of body odour but a not entirely pleasant mix of sweat and sulphur. It was a smell that could be either comforting and familiar like a fire or threatening and scary.
Ron and Lupin came forward and helped them both up.
Harnepher, who had welcomed them earlier, came hurrying forward, "Let me look at those cuts."
She passed a glowing hand over the burns and Harry grimaced as the heat brushed his skin but when he looked back the wounds were gone.
Seeing their shocked expressions Harnepher answered the unasked question, "The body is made up of heat mostly. Powerful heat mages can control the body."
"Can you?" Ron asked bluntly.
Harnepher looked down, "No, my talent is only healing. Only the truly powerful mages can control the body. Pyralis can and of course Agnimukha. There are others as well."
"But that's terrifying and a interference with free will," Hermione protested.
"That is why we were banished from normal wizarding society but is it any worse than the imperious curse?" Harnepher demanded, "Besides it is the Cold Mages you want to watch for. They control your mind. Zizimisha mwili thought. Make cold thoughts."
Pyralis was drinking in the corner being talked to urgently by Agnimukha. She was nodding and listening intently. Harnepher followed his gaze.
"She is the youngest shujaa, or champion, ever and incredibly powerful but she is temperamental and impulsive," Harnepher warned, "She has a dark cloud that hangs over her. A potential danger if you like. But she will keep you safe." She added the last bit grudgingly and Harry thought he detected jealousy.
The king stood and drew attention from everyone towards him.
"We have decided to give our aid to the young mwanga Harry Potter as he has proved his worth before us. We have agreed that the rise of Voldemort will be bad for all magical creatures not just wizards. It is time to stood hiding in remote countries and join the rest of the world," His words were met with feverish whooping, "We will assemble and begin our journey to Britain. All able to fight will come. This will be a war. But Pyralis will leave now and accompany the wizards to the realm of the cold mages. May they travel safely and gain the support of their tabaradi kwini."
"Cold queen," Pyralis translated as she moved closer, "The Cold Mages queen is called Yepa. It means winter princess. Apt is it not?"
"Don't all Wild Mages names mean something and isn't that meaning important?" McGongall asked.
Pyralis nodded and smiled, "Yes."
"What does your name mean?" Harry was curious.
"Of fire," Pyralis informed them.
"And Ibzan's?" Hermione wanted to know.
Pyralis looked taken back that Hermione knew his name, "Father of coldness. Ibzan is… there are no words for Ibzan. You will have to meet him."
Harry thought this sounded slightly foreboding. Pyralis seemed nice and the Heat mages welcoming but the Cold Mages had begun to sound like stereotypes of their title.
Pyralis noticed his expression, "Ibzan is a good shujaa." It was meant to be comforting.
"So I have the most powerful Shujaa in a hundred years," Harry felt the foreign word slide over his tongue, "And the fire's youngest Shujaa in a hundred years?"
Pyralis nodded, "Good friends for fighting a dark mwanga like Voldemort."
"So is Ibzan also called Shujaa?" Lupin asked. It didn't hurt to have a knowledge of the local's customs.
Pyralis shook her head, "In his Russian language he is called, снежок, which means warrior. But Shujaa is simpler to say." She laughed then. "We use волшебство пламени, which means flame magic and they use Волшебство льда, ice magic."
"You speak their language well," McGongall commented.
"Only a few essential words just like they only understand a few words in Swahili. At our annual ritual we speak English," Pyralis explained. Hermione had an attentive face absorbing it all like Pyralis was a teacher.
Agnimukha approached then, "You must stay the night as out guests and enjoy our hospitality. Tomorrow you will travel to Novaya Zemlya to meet with out colder counter parts."
"You are too kind, Agnimukha. We gratefully accept your hospitality to rest the night here," McGongall smiled graciously.
The king bowed his head and, Harry and Pyralis made eye contact. For a brief second he wasn't looking at a heat mage champion but a girl the same age as him. Her dark eyes glittered with uncertainty and she rubbed her hooked nose absent-mindedly as if unsure what the coming days would bring. Harry couldn't blame her.
He was worried too.
"Where's Novaya Zemlya?" Ron whispered and Harry couldn't resist a laugh. As long as he had his friend's things would be alright.
AN: This is a short chapter as you'll probably see but oh well. Ibzan next chapter. I think he's a good character personally. Well review please and let me know what you think! Constructive criticism always welcome, flamers not, positive affirmation gets virtually hugs!
MD666